


Sunday Nights

by pzreich



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Admission of love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slow Burn, cute fluff I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pzreich/pseuds/pzreich
Summary: Dean and Castiel develop a habit of watching movies after the week ends together and one night Dean realises his relationship with the angel is something far more profound.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is decently old- like from June of 2015 but I still think it's cute so have some Destiel fluff.

There was a thick blanket separating the tips of his fingers and the curve of Cas' shoulder. The angel had recently complained about the cold, so as he lay curled up, staring at the television, there was a wool cloth draped over his body. Dean didn't mind the change so much as he missed the texture of Cas' skin. The blanket could not accurately portray how soft it was. Dean had stopped paying attention to the television a long time ago and he was staring at Cas instead. His heart fluttered whenever he saw the tiny changes on his face when Cas gave the smallest of smiles--his eyes crinkled up and the muscles around his mouth pushed up his cheeks-- or when he frowned-- the sadness in his sweet, soft, baby blue eyes. Cas lay in a fetal-like position on the couch, feet tucked underneath him, head on Dean's collarbone and hands clasped loosely on his lap. His shoes were haphazardly placed by the foot of the couch and his trench coat and suit jacket sprawled on the arm. Dean sat with one arm wrapped around Cas, the other holding a cool bottle of beer and he was staring at Cas. Cas, with the smile that could break your heart and the knife to physically do just that, somehow was tucked under Dean's arm as naturally as the tide’s ebb and flow.   
Some people when they fall in love it is as fast and beautiful as fireworks. Swelling music and a dreamy look and suddenly there is a passionate kiss where everything is just sunshine and roses. Dean always pictured that would happen when he met the girl of his dreams. But he sat there, his leg falling asleep from the weight of Cas' backside and thought about how that wasn't the only way to fall in love. For Cas and Dean, there was no swelling romance or sudden passionate kisses. It was the evenings, when the hunt was done and they were relaxing in the bunker and that was the time when they were most vulnerable. Some think it's when you are in battle, stress and adrenaline reaching until there is nothing left but basic instinct. Or perhaps, as Dean realized, it's afterwards. That's where it's safe, where one can let their guard down. It started with Cas joining Dean on the couch when he watched television one night. He initially also drank alcohol but soon stopped because he began to really taste all of the molecules. Slowly, it went from opposite ends of the couch to right next to each other to cuddling and feathery kisses. The kissing began small, butterflies on the backs of hands and necks but soon it was needy and passionate, fingertips brushing under shirts and heavy breathing. It was the slow way to fall in love and the progression from casual to something more seemed as natural as breathing.  
Sam noticed of course, the few times where he looked up from research or accidentally wandered in, but he only smiled silently. During hunts, on the the rare times Cas joined them, it seemed like nothing had changed between them. They held their relationship at arm's length and didn't do anything more than the occasional shoulder pat. It was only on those special times, which only happened once a week, or even once every two if they were unlucky, the Dean could be himself around Cas. Dean brushed his lips on the top of Cas's hairline, closing his eyes. He smelled like baby powder and something sharp, like springtime? Dean later realized that that was his grace. When he opened them, Cas was looking up at him, the brilliant ocean of his gaze filling Dean up with light, and then he was kissing Dean and nothing else in the world mattered anymore. His lips tasted of honey. Cas moved one of his hands to lightly touch the edge of Dean's jawline and Dean deepened the kiss, flush against the heat of Cas' cheeks. When he broke for air, Cas kissed him once more, smiled the most beautiful, breathtaking smile in the universe and lay his head on Dean's collarbone, wrapped in his embrace. Dean took a swig from the bottle and leaned down to put it on the floor. He had to move his upper body to achieve this and Cas complained in a tiny whine. So to make up for it, Dean laced his fingers through Cas' and soon felt the pressure of his head on Dean's collarbone afterwards.  
They never went farther than the kissing. Somehow, on an unspoken agreement between them, that was a line they weren't ready to cross yet. It was kind of as if that moment, Dean would be forced to accept that he loved Cas. He had strayed away from thinking they were anything but friends. Friends, however, didn't spend hours on the sofa cuddling. They didn't kiss and they didn't engage in steamy make out sessions. Friends didn't whisper promises of affection to each other when they interlocked arms and legs. Friends didn't shiver when they made contact with each other and friends wasn't ever enough to describe what Cas meant to Dean.  
"Dean?"  
Dean gave a start and turned his head to face Cas. His beautiful eyes blinked once, twice.  
“Yeah?”  
“I love you.”  
Dean could feel his heart rate increasing as blood filled the veins in his cheeks and ears because Cas couldn’t possibly have heard him. Couldn’t have known that he was thinking about Cas in precisely that moment. Although, it was entirely more than likely that Cas possessed the necessary skills to perceive that information, in his haggard state Dean could only believe that his thoughts were alone. Cas noted the increase in body temperature and his brow crinkled in concern.   
“Are you alright?” he asked slowly, shoulders tensing as he moved his upper body in order to assess his lover more accurately.  
“Yeah, it’s nothin’, I just love you too”   
And in that moment, Dean recognized the truth in his statement. All of the knotted anxiety released its hold on his psyche and he visibly relaxed. It was true, he loved Cas. Not because he felt bad for him, or a weird sense of entitlement from the angel saying it first, but because he was safe. Cas represented a place where the heavy stigma of his childhood could leave him, so Dean could allow himself this, to realize his emotions; and this time he wouldn’t let Cas slip away. Sated, Cas relaxed onto the broad pane of his chest and Dean pressed a kiss to the top of his angel’s head, promising himself that he could be and would be happy.


End file.
